


Stained

by Sneezysoul



Category: Khonjin House (Web Series)
Genre: Just some Gino thinkin thoughts after an accident, Major character death but it's KH so, lot of swearing bc its gino
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:33:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29788560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sneezysoul/pseuds/Sneezysoul
Summary: After an accident with a shotgun, Gino has some thoughts.
Relationships: khonjin & Gino
Kudos: 5





	Stained

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in 3 seconds kthnxbye

The blood was sticky on his face and, despite all efforts not to, he still managed to get blood on Gino’s couch.

Gino who at this moment was in the kitchen wetting a towel to clean it up with.

“Shit, Khonjin, you have _GOT_ to stop killing yourself.” Gino shouts as he made his way to the couch, “and if you really have to, do it outside!”

Khonjin made to scoot over so the older man could wipe the leather cushions, but Gino’s hand on his shoulder stops him, and before he knew it Gino had started wiping the blood off his face, pulling chunks of gunk from his hair.

He cringes at every pull, but lets it happen; Gino was thankful for that, at least.

“Shit.” Gino mumbles as he pulls another chunk off; Khonjin has only killed himself a few times before, but this time it had been an accident involving a shotgun and _not_ something that was planned. Usually, Khonjin would just warp reality to clean up the bloodstains, but this time he hadn’t, and Gino was beginning to worry about the moron.

Khonjin was just a kid, really. Who just happened to play around with Gino’s old-timey shotgun. Neither of them knew it had bullets left in it, and from the thick layer of dust that was on it one couldn’t even tell it was operational. It was just some old-time museum shit his great uncle gave him.

It took him by surprise - Khonjin usually does - but this time it was....a _pure_ feeling. This time Gino knew it wasn’t some stupid shit Khonjin scripted just to mess with his head, and maybe just the pure shock of dying knocked some quiet into the boy because he hadn’t spoken a work in a good half hour after waking up.

It was...pretty scary, actually. Khonjin hadn’t woken up immediately afterwards and for just a moment Gino had...he’d thought...

He shakes his head to rid of the idea before pulling himself back to look.

The kid still had darker red in his hair and a few smears on his chin, but at least there weren’t any chunks on him anymore. The towel though? It’s gonna get thrown out and burned.

“You finally fucking shut up. What’s the matter?”

Khonjin practically squirms in his seat at that.

It takes him a second to respond; “I just...I don’t know. It’s weird dying without a plan.”

And, fuck, what kind of kid could even say something like that?

“Isn’t it weird dying? Maybe makes ya not want to do that again?” Gino says, hoping that Khonjin finally learned his lesson and maybe would stop killing people and himself for fun whenever he so pleases.

“Not really.” Khonjin says, looking down to his hands, still blood soaked. He clenches and unclenches them slowly, as if it took effort to do. “It’s...just quiet.”

Gino grunts, unsatisfied with the answer, before he passes the towel to the kid, “Fuckin’ wash up. I’ll get the couch.”

When the kid finally makes his way to the bathroom upstairs, Gino really had to question just how this became such a normal part of his life, scrubbing blood out of his leather couch after witnessing a fucking kid shoot himself.

He should be traumatized. He should be going to therapy.

Well, he does go to therapy, but definitely not for this.

The fucking couch was _ruined_.

He pulls back, popping his back as he stood away from the couch, taking it in; the black leather looked fine at a quick glance, but if you happened to look closer you could notice the oddly darker shades along the corners, the weird splattering of black dots lining along the seat Khonjin had blown himself out on.

It was morbid, seeing the blood stains.

Also, now that he could see the mess, it was now labelled as ‘garbage’, unless Khonjin can somehow shift the cosmos or whatever the fuck he does to get the blood out.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, looking at the blood stains, until he feels a tap on his arm, “I really like your shampoo.”

“Wh...” Gino blinks, looking down at the boy, “what shampoo?”

The kid looks over the couch, ignoring his question, “Woah. You can kinda see my outline on your couch!”

“Yeah.” Gino nods, going back to take it all in. Fuck, he didn’t even bother to move the shotgun. His neighbors might have called the cops after that.

Fuck, what if the police come in and notice the couch has blood all over it?

What if they test it and find out it’s Khonjin? Fucking give him to the government like some kind of rat to play with. Shit. They should get rid of the couch before that happens.

“Wanna go get some icecream?” Khonjin’s voice breaks him out of his thoughts.

Awe, shit. Maybe he was worrying hard enough that the kid could tell he was nervous.

Maybe...maybe he _would_ , in fact, like to get icecream.

“Yeah. Let’s get some fuckin’ icecream.”


End file.
